


Hot 'n Ready

by lunaaltare



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bickering Old Couple, Car Sex, Drabble, Established Relationship, M/M, Mild Sexual Content, public
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 07:42:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19168825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lunaaltare/pseuds/lunaaltare
Summary: Bucky and Sam have sex in a Little Caesar's parking lot, because clearly Sam needs a divorce.





	Hot 'n Ready

**Author's Note:**

> this is complete nonsense. i guess crack treated seriously? girl idk.

Little Caesar’s Pizza is as broke as you can get. You could pull up at the McDonald’s drive-thru, order off the value menu and still feel better off than dining in at Little Caesar’s. However, an overlooked part of being Captain America is no one is exactly paying you for saving the world; Sam wishes he considered that before quitting his job at the VA to be a full-time frisbee thrower.

Sam pops the truck door open with one hand, balancing 3 boxes of pizza with the other. Bucky sits in the driver’s seat and doesn’t bother helping, because apparently, Sam is the kind of guy that marries worthless assholes.

“Took you long enough,” Bucky grouses. He gets grumpy when he doesn’t eat and even grumpier when that hunger’s heralded by a long day of fighting colonizing aliens from deep space. The pouting would be cute if he wasn’t so damn annoying.

“Yeah, yeah, shut the hell up.” Sam waits for the car to pull off, but it never leaves the dark corner of the parking lot. Instead, Bucky reaches over Sam, plucks a box straight from his lap and just digs in. “Seriously?”

“What? I’m _hungry_.”

“Couldn’t wait to we got home at least?” Sam had a movie night planned and everything; he even bought popcorn and a complete set of kernel seasoning. Shit’s not cheap, man. He looks at Sam and shrugs, washing down the pizza with a lukewarm beer they had sitting in the back.

Well, if you can’t beat’em, join 'em.

They blow through the food in ten minutes flat. It tasted like warm cardboard drizzled with cheese, but it gets the job done. He groans and reclines in his chair, letting the A/C blast him in the face at full power. It’s quite for a minute. He almost drifts off to sleep when Bucky’s voice breaks the silence.

“You wanna’ do it here?”

It takes him a moment.

“Do _what_ here?”

“ _It_. Sex. The horizontal tango. Do you wanna’ fuck, Wilson; don’t make me ask again.”

“I don’t know if you realized, but we’re in a Little Ceasar’s parking lot.”

“So?” He blinks, like he seriously doesn’t see the problem.

“We skipped movie night to have sex in your truck. At _Little_ _Caesar’s_.”

“Don’t be like that,” Bucky sweettalks, unfastening his seatbelt. “We were gonna’ watch _Die Hard_ ; I was probably gonna’ suck you off like halfway through that movie, anyway. Now get in the backseat before I move you there.”

He makes a show of pretending to like he doesn’t care; he sucks his teeth, rolls his eyes n’ all, knowing damn well he’s rock-hard, and his skin is feverish to the touch. Bucky climbs in the back right after him. Sam (barely) resists a “hot and ready” joke, only because there’s nothing that gets someone instantly soft like a bad pun.

He crowds Sam’s space the way he likes, claiming his mouth in a kiss that tastes too much like pepperoni and cheap beer to be as good as it is. Their shirts come off, belts are undone, and pants are shucked down to their ankles. Bucky presses warm kisses along the column of his throat, the bruises he got from battle and even the gut that ab crunches just can’t get rid of anymore. Bucky’s suave when he wants to be, smooth enough that he’s got one hand between his thighs before he realizes—

“I’m not letting you finger me when your dirty ass hands.”

“I wiped them off.”

“Yeah, on your _dirty_ _ass_ _jeans_.”

“Nothing’s good enough for you—just—c’ mere.” He quiets Sam’s complaint with a kiss, then wraps a freshly re-wiped hand around the both of their dicks. “Can’t believe married a goddamn prima donna.”

“Shut up and jerk me off,”

“ _And_ you’re demanding,”

It doesn’t take much for either of them to finish. They’re both bone tired by the end of it, slumped against each other in a post-coital daze. Sam runs his fingers through Bucky’s damp hair.

“Hey, Bucky?”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“The next time you make me have sex in a car, I’m moving your shit to the streets. I’m a grown ass man; if we’re doing this anywhere it better be in the bed I goddamn paid for. Got it?”

“ _Got_ _it_.”

“Good. Now take me home and we can try this again the _right_ way.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice.


End file.
